


If I'm Icarus, You Must be the Sun (Allow Me Three Mistakes)

by wyxest



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu is said unreliable narrator, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Interconnected Drabbles, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, Slight Canon Divergence, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyxest/pseuds/wyxest
Summary: He wonders if Icarus felt like nothing was wrong with self-destructing, because he had reveled in the sun, if only for a little while.Atsumu finds, loving Hinata is the same.Atsumu's love over the years, and the mistakes that accompany it.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 29
Kudos: 208





	If I'm Icarus, You Must be the Sun (Allow Me Three Mistakes)

**I.**

When Atsumu fell in love, it didn’t feel like falling.

It felt like flying, soaring and bathing in the warmth of something as absurd as the sun’s embrace.

He wonders if this was how Icarus felt – if when he finally caught a glimpse of the faraway star, his heart overtook his senses, and the wax melting his faux wings, burning his back and sending him to his painful, impending death, was nothing but an offering for the gods, to grant him his selfish wish of revolving around the sun and abandoning those who gave him wings.

He wonders if Icarus felt like nothing was wrong with self-destructing, because he had reveled in the sun, if only for a little while.

Atsumu finds, loving Hinata is the same.

Because when he flew in love, he did so in one fell swoop. It took only the bright stadium lights, the permeating smell of menthol, the sweat dripping off his brows, the glaring red scoreboard of their defeat, the flashes of flight, the ball landing past him before he could even comprehend how, and the heat of something akin to awe and frustration and loss and envy amalgamated into one strange feeling – it took only a short-lived match for him to fly in love with Hinata Shouyou.

It’s desire and hunger that whisper to him, _you want to take him higher (you want to feel weightless yourself)_. It’s impulsiveness that made him say-

“I’ll toss to ya one day.”

Impulsive it may be, Atsumu doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.

Inarizaki’s spring ended in a bitter note but inexplicably, Atsumu felt like his spring had only just begun.

**II.**

Through his miserable epiphanies of romance, Atsumu doesn’t act differently, doesn’t even lose a single wink of sleep.

It’s love, or maybe something close. He knows it for sure because _this_ feels different. Thinking of the boy with crows’ feathers on his back does not feel pleasant and like butterflies in his stomach. Instead, it feels like worms and bugs crawling under his skin, forcing him out of the fissures in his skin and leaving him vulnerable to the hurt and cold.

But despite the detestable feeling, it feels _right_. As if Atsumu is supposed to be able to feel that way. For the life of him, he wants to take back his body and pick apart the bugs one by one, until only what’s left is the past, but, _that’s not really the correct answer too_.

Because while it’s love ( _isn’t it? It must be love because it’s not always untroubled, isn’t it?_ ), it’s the sort that was doomed to fail before it could even try to flourish, so there’s no need to pick anything apart. He will just accept these feelings and let them ebb away on their own.

It hasn’t been a month yet since meeting the fun-sized player and losing to said player’s team, so by virtue, that means he is still allowed to mope on their loss against Karasuno.

If he’s being technical about it, communication is impossible because no way will he ever ask Tobio-kun for Hinata’s number, his pride is still intact thank you very much. The nature of Kageyama and Hinata’s relationship remain unclear to him. Not to mention the nine hundred fifty kilometers of distance that separates Hyōgo from Miyagi.

Most importantly, Hinata probably merely remembers him as _oh there’s this player_.

Although thoughts like that kind of ( _really_ ) hurts to think about, they’re his unfortunate reality.

So, true to his ever-obstinate ass, he moves on from ~~Hinata~~ their loss.

**III.**

The truth begs to differ, because Atsumu is wrong on three things. The first is thinking and believing that he did not act differently nor lost sleep over _the_ rival team’s middle blocker.

See, Miya Osamu, to his mortification upon being aware of his surroundings at a young age, is Atsumu’s brother – _Atsumu’s twin brother_. By some universal truth mandated by some morally inclined person out there, being siblings equates to understanding and reading his brother better than anyone else.

Ergo, if his dumbass twin thinks he’s fooling anyone, much less _him,_ then he’s delusional.

Osamu wants to _snort_.

He still has to give it to Atsumu though, brownie points for trying.

Keyword: _trying_.

Because once, when Osamu was cooling down from practice by stretching his sore muscles. He side-eyed his brother for a quick second and had to do a double-take because Atsumu is repeatedly jumping – not spiking, not setting, not blocking, not serving – _jumping_.

If that wasn’t enough of a warning sign, upon questioning him, Atsumu only stared at his feet, then at the net and the space beyond it, and said, “I want to know what else can be seen from that view above.”

But all Osamu heard was, _I want to know how he sees the court, I want to know how his mind works_. It’s romantic, he concurs, in a quirky and peculiar way only volleyball-brained idiots could be.

There was also that time he woke up at two in the morning to dimmed lights and loud, cheering cacophonies; woke up to his brother in their shared room watching low-quality, grainy videos of previous Karasuno matches. He doesn’t even need to guess why Atsumu is watching them. A few minutes in observing his brother makes it so painfully obvious as Atsumu methodically pauses and rewinds all plays that has to do with Karasuno’s number ten.

Imagining the love-sick faces his brother could be doing in front of the screen made his insides cringe. Ducking under the covers, he tried his damning hardest to remove the visuals from his head.

There were many more first-hand instances that he can and should recount so then maybe he wouldn’t feel solely responsible for his brother’s bad decisions in life, like when he found his brother searching the internet for airplane and train ticket prices to Miyagi, or when Atsumu discovered a new penchant for practicing quicks with him a _little_ too much.

But the final straw was when he found his brother sitting at the kitchen table one night, opposite from him, glaring holes at his phone as if it had directly offended him in some way.

Atsumu placed it down display-side up to get a glass of water, and that’s enough leeway for Osamu to make out the inverted characters for ‘Goody Two-Shoes’ on the phone’s screen. Previous rants from Atsumu translates them immediately to Kageyama Tobio. Not just _that_ gifted setter. Kageyama Tobio as in Karasuno’s setter – _Hinata’s_ setter.

The muscles of his eyes twitched in irritation. A petty Atsumu is annoying on good days, but _this_ Atsumu is downright migraine-inducing, even on the best of days.

Osamu put his pen down and pushed away his textbook slightly just as Atsumu returned to his seat. “Fuck’s sake ‘Tsumu.” Sighing because he’s just so utterly _done_ , “Denial ain’t a pretty look on ya.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows, looking up to him from his phone. “What’cha mean hah?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Staring blankly at his brother, “If ya think for a second yer being subtle about yer crush, then ya must’ve been dropped way too many times as a kid.”

_Not that I’d blame our parents._

“I ain’t crushin’ on Shouyou-kun!” Sputtering, Atsumu almost choked on his water.

“Who says anythin’ about Karasuno’s ten?” Osamu felt vindictively gleeful at the look of distress that crossed his brother’s face.

Admittedly, the panic settling in his brother’s face too was fairly amusing to witness.

“Ya ass! No! That’s- He’s not-!”

He raised an eyebrow. “And wow, first name basis already? Bold move ‘Tsumu.”

“That doesn’t mean anythin’! I call many people by their first names!”

On the contrary, Osamu thought, it means everything, if the red creeping on Atsumu’s neck and face is any indication.

“’Ya don’t even remember the names of most people.”

 _Only those that pique your interest,_ was left unsaid.

“Well of course I’d remember him, he defeated us!”

“By that logic, ya should be able to remember the names of the other members.” Osamu clapped his hands. “But guess what? Ya don’t.”

“I,” Making a sound that’s an interesting mix between a dying cat and an angry fox, Atsumu stood up, “Am done with this conversation.”

“Uh huh.” Osamu barely spares his escape a glance, focusing on his textbook again. He pities the retreating figure of his brother, if only because Atsumu has never been this invested over a person. Fangirls, for obvious reasons, don’t count because _they_ are the ones invested on Atsumu.

“Grow a backbone already.” He snickered. “Ya look stupid moonin’ over him.”

“I. Ain’t.”

Atsumu sent him a crass, violent middle finger and switched off all the lights in the kitchen before he goes. It’d be exasperating if it wasn’t for the persistent blush of his cheeks.

Osamu took one long-suffering breath and asked the gods above if it’s already too late to ask for a different sibling.

Anyway, he digresses. The point is, his brother is an idiot, one who is obviously not ready to go down without a fight even if he himself is unaware of it yet.

He sighs again. He’d been doing that a lot these days.

Gods have mercy on Karasuno’s number ten.

**IV.**

The fall of their third and last year in high school came by all too quickly, and with the changing season came another chance to face Karasuno.

Atsumu mustered enough false bravado the night before the match that he’s sure there’d be no more left to exude for a few months. But all of that began unraveling before his very eyes when he met eyes with Hinata, who suddenly smiled and waved at him so sunnily it had taken him aback. It took several seconds before his brain processed it all, and only then did he awkwardly waved and smiled back.

_The match hasn’t even started yet y’er killin’ me already Shouyou-kun._

A fist punching his shoulder blades halted his train of thought momentarily.

“Y’er slippin’ ‘Tsumu. Stop with the heart eyes ‘fore I kick ya.” Osamu stared at him knowingly, gesturing at the court. “It’s our turn to warm up.”

Snapping back to reality, Atsumu knows all too well the situation and his responsibilities without anyone reminding him.

Thinking about the upcoming match, recurring hunger and thirst surged through his veins, enclosing his thoughts in a tunnel vision in line only with volleyball. His blood sings. _Excitement_ , they laughed, _victory_ , they echoed.

The sensation of crushing defeat wasn’t new to him, but it had still stung. Atsumu sure as hell didn’t just spend the months before this very moment _pining_. Inarizaki spent it training, fortifying defenses, polishing blocks, sets and serves, getting used to new faces and saying the inevitable _see you soon_ to familiar, dependable backs.

Inarizaki spent the last few months getting better – stronger – and it paid off. Unwaveringly holding their own on the last set against the monster crows from Karasuno, they still managed to win the match.

He huffed at the joyful expressions on their first years and at the satiated face of Osamu, and allowed himself to bask in their triumph too. There was something positively cathartic and viciously satisfying in getting back at the team that defeated them once.

The things that happened next, Atsumu blames the high from their victory.

This is his second mistake: foolishly thinking he had moved on from Hinata just because he hasn’t seen him in months aside from pixelated stills from poorly defined videos.

Because when he threw a glance at Hinata from the opposite side of the court, he was socked in the face and reminded again of wings stitched by wax, iridescent sun rays, falling to death, and flying in love.

Because when he threw a glance at Hinata, his feet moved, as if abandoning sense. In seventeen even strides, Atsumu was already in front of him.

Face-to-face with Hinata Shouyou, now he can clearly see the sweat that intermingles with the start of tears in Hinata’s eyes, the uneven breathing of exhaustion, the frustration and disappointment he can’t quite hide in the face of his opponent, and the way he gazes at him with a look he names as respect and something else he can’t quite pin down.

Now he can see the hunger all too similar with his own and Atsumu’s heart skipped a conscious beat.

He disregarded the curious looks from Hinata’s teammates and called upon all that false bravado and haughtiness he scrupulously collected.

He took a shallow breath.

“Let’s exchange contact information Shouyou-kun.”

Hinata seems to not register what he said for a moment, but when he finally did, he grinned at him and –

“Sure Atsumu-san!”

– Atsumu morbidly wants to tear his heart out from his ribcage and offer it to this boy. _Have my heart, have me, have my everything_.

When he returned to their benches, dismissing all memories related to the incredulous looks thrown around by Karasuno, mostly by Kageyama, to him, he didn’t even feel slighted by Osamu who gave him a discreet thumbs up and a smirk.

“Nice to see y’er spine ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu flashed him a grin, all teeth and shameless.

“Shut y’er fuckin’ trap ‘Samu.”

**V.**

Like any other humble-blooded man, Atsumu did not expect that anything would come out of obtaining Hinata’s number and social media accounts.

He didn’t. Really.

But he couldn’t possibly ignore the somersault his heart made when he texted Hinata _and_ received repl _ies_.

> _Thanks for giving me your number Shouyou-kun._
> 
> _No problem Atsumu-san!_
> 
> _You were so great earlier! The ball was like whoosh! and fwah! and baam! in your hands!_

Let it be known that he doesn’t even type like this – all pompously correct with punctuations and no abbreviated words. Blinking, he can hear the brutally loud sound of his brother’s condescending cackles at the back of his mind, to which he had to briefly search for his twin’s quiet figure to make sure that it’s all in his head.

> _You flatter me too much_
> 
> _Your quicks and jumps were as scary as ever_
> 
> _Well good!!! Your serves are naaasty!_
> 
> _I’m still so frustrated_
> 
> _I wanted to win and play more_
> 
> _I wanted to beat your team and beat Kamomedai_
> 
> _But I had fun Atsumu-san_
> 
> _Thank you_

How much more endearing can this boy be, with his honesty and candid declarations. He doesn’t even understand why Hinata is opening up like this to him.

> _No need to thank me of all people_
> 
> _We had fun too Shouyou-kun_
> 
> _You were really great out there, I mean it_

Pressing the last characters for his reply, Atsumu resisted the urge to roll around his bed to will the tingling and shaking of his fingers away.

He settled for throwing himself face-first into his pillow and screaming.

Beside him, changing his clothes, Osamu immediately understood the situation and rolled his eyes.

**VI.**

> _Atsumu-san_
> 
> _Let’s play again some time_
> 
> _I’ll beat you for sure_
> 
> _Good luck on your matches tomorrow!_
> 
> _I’ll hold you on to that Shouyou-kun_
> 
> _Thanks for wishing us luck_
> 
> _Have a good night_
> 
> _Good night Atsumu-san!_

If the previous conversation taught his heart how to somersault, Hinata hinting on wanting to play against ~~him~~ them again taught it a full five-minute gymnastics routine.

Wide awake in the dark and hearing only the soft snores and breathing of his teammates, _how am I supposed to sleep now?_

**VII.**

Atsumu’s life got the best of him.

Their correspondence on volleyball, food, and their teammates wasn’t long by any means, lasting only for two months before withering away. And it’s his fault, honestly, between being the captain of the volleyball club and maintaining his health and form, he’d been too busy as well in actually studying and preparing for entrance exams.

“A safety net ‘Tsumu,” Osamu said, forwarding to him links of universities and career assessment tests. “S’not like ya’ve completely made up yer mind on goin’ pro.”

Osamu is right. But it took him a week to begrudgingly consider Osamu’s words. It didn’t help that there were still erratic leftovers of loneliness and anger stewing within him from their recent fight– when Osamu told him he doesn’t want to play professionally. Remembering the shouting match that ensued still tastes bitter and acrid on his tongue.

With everything volleyball-related and the usual unreasonable dose of teenage school drama as background noise, there’s barely any time to try forging a solid friendship with Hinata.

So Atsumu simply stopped trying.

_If he can’t give it his all, what even is the point?_

And, it’s not like his role in Hinata’s life is so established that Hinata would feel greatly the loss of their communication and would consequently have the need to continuously try reaching out to him via direct messages.

‘Sides, it’s also not like they just _disappeared_ off each other’s lives. It is always a relief as it is a regret that despite not talking, Hinata still considers him as _someone_ , if the reacts and short messages they leave to the social media posts of each other were any indication.

Well.

It’s enough for now.

Atsumu would just have to deal.

**VIII.**

Their reunion (if he could even call it that because they hadn’t really interacted that much to be allowed the use of the word _reunion_ ) was sweet. If Atsumu could liken the taste to anything, it’s like the pervading taste that comes after a successful impulsive volleyball play, the taste that leaves him thrilled and starving for more.

He hadn’t expected to walk in on the Jackals’ gym for once a full thirty minutes early, and subsequently find the sun-reincarnate at the corner of the gym, with his unmistakable orange hair and the distinct animated lilt to his every movement that assures Atsumu that it is indeed Hinata Shouyou, stretching and warming up with a handful of other people he truthfully couldn’t be bothered to look at.

There is a ringing in his ears and cold sweat breaking at the side of his face. His throat is dry despite the bottle of water he drank earlier, and he sort of feels like his legs won’t work if he attempts to walk any closer to the small gathering before him.

 _Tryouts_ , his mind supplied. They were given two days off their official training schedule to give way for the annual MSBY Black Jackals’ tryouts, with which all the players currently on the roaster were required to participate in the final stage of the tryouts – the third and last day – for an on-court compatibility test.

Oh he knows very well that Hinata went to Brazil for volleyball, _I mean for what else would he go that far_ , but Atsumu is absolutely floored to see him, trying out for the same team he’s playing with. _What are the odds_.

He supposed getting in the Jackals is the quickest and smartest way to have a chance to play on the same court with the top and strongest players in Japan.

A bewildered sound beside him snapped him out of his consternation. Looking towards the source, he found Bokuto, in his hundred and twenty percent mode, beginning to open his mouth and – _wait wait wait back the hell up not yet Bokkun no –_

“Hey hey hey! Hinata! Hey!”

Lo and behold, Hinata looked their way, broke into one of the brightest smiles known to man, and proceeded to walk his way to them, all the while scrambling Atsumu’s insides upside down from brain to heart without even realizing it.

“Bokuto-san! Atsumu-san! Nice to see you again!” He obviously recognized them.

(Wax wings. Flight. Sun. Falling. Flying. _~~Love~~_ ~~.~~ Atsumu’s world tilts, shifts perceptibly, creates waves of honeyed feelings he thought had ebbed away.)

**IX.**

Hinata has grown up some.

No, Atsumu is not talking about the amazing alcohol-tolerance Hinata has acquired, nor the copper-toned tan lines, nor the slight accent that he can’t shake off just yet after months of speaking mostly in Portuguese and English, nor the gorgeous way his jaw line accentuates his face. No, Atsumu is not talking about how beautiful the years aged Hinata.

It’s easy to see with the naked eye how much Hinata had changed physically. Taller (and isn’t that a surprise), and more muscular, with a certain grace and strength in his gait, it effortlessly spoke of his years in Brazil that cut him into a figure befitting a disciplined athlete.

But, as he sat with Hinata in a booth to celebrate his new status as an official MSBY Black Jackal member (Bokuto already left an hour ago to meet with Akaashi and Sakusa doesn’t like crowds and drinking in general), beer in their hands and satisfyingly warm on their tongues, Atsumu sees something more.

Between the two of them, no moment has been stale. There was no shortage of anecdotes, alcohol, and conversation, rolling off each other as if they had always been very good friends. Hinata learned of their years and their long-standing rivalry with Schweiden Adlers, learned of the others who pursued volleyball with other V League teams and how they fare – learned of the way time had changed circumstances and people.

Similarly, he learned of beaches and the enemy-turned-friend sand, learned of how Hinata trained and broadened his skillset – learned of the way time and isolation had changed him.

Atsumu sipped on his beer, feeling a pleasant buzz in his head. “That’s nice to hear Shouyou-kun.” He commented as Hinata shares with him that his sister, Natsu, is taking up volleyball too.

Hinata chuckled, the sound doing wonders to his relaxed state of mind. “I know right. I honestly thought she’d be sick of it after all the ruckus I use to make in the house about it.” Hinata downs his third bottle. “What about you Atsumu-san? How is Osamu-san?”

“Ah…well,” Atsumu put his bottle down to cup his face into his hands, softly smiling. “He’s not playing professionally actually. He took a business-related program and started a food business. You’ll see him sometimes when the season starts. He likes selling personally during those games.”

There’s no animosity and bitterness dripping from his words – no, not anymore. Atsumu grew up, and for all that sometimes he still looks around his side of the court and expects the shadow of a shape built like his own, he has long since made peace with Osamu’s decision. Only the feelings of pride remain, for his brother who had followed his happiness (not that he’d ever outright tell Osamu this).

“That’s good to hear too.” Hinata slid closer to the table, leaning to his empty beer bottle to gaze at him eye-to-eye.

(Something shifts again.)

The air reformed around them, rose, warm air circulating and replacing the dense cold air until there is nothing but heat in the scant spaces between them.

“Change like this is inevitable, isn’t it, Atsumu-san?”

Atsumu’s eyes widened imperceptibly.

The night is old, it’s almost an hour before midnight, and Atsumu is not sure if it’s the alcohol messing with his eyes, but the look on Hinata’s eyes was startingly unanticipated and different – deliberately more intense, darker.

Hinata has grown up some.

There is no more hesitation on his actions. Hinata stared at him as a man in control of his body, with confidence that can only be born from experiencing and _living_ the different shades of life.

And Atsumu can’t quite reconcile this Hinata from the visage of a boy from three years ago yet. Maybe he can and maybe he will in the morning, once the buzz is gone and only a light headache remains.

But for now, he’ll comfort himself with the fact that stars can become supernovas and explode, changing its surroundings accordingly.

Surely, Hinata Shouyou is the same.

(For at this very moment, Miya Atsumu is but a planet that surrounds the sun, he can’t help it if the sun’s gravity eventually pulls him again.)

Laughing through his nose, he schooled his expression similarly and made his choice.

“Change like this is not always a bad thing. I’ve learned it can bring opportunities to the favored, Shouyou-kun.”

**X.**

Atsumu is far from the truth again; the only reason Hinata tried out for the Black Jackals is because it’s the only V League team with tryouts at the same time frame he flies back to Japan.

Once he learns of this, rather far in the future, it’s insignificant because the orange hair tickling his chin, lighting his mornings and painting a smile on his features, is not a supposition.

Similarly, his third and last mistake from long ago is assuming. Because if one day he’ll have the courage to ask his once-opponent-now-teammate, he’d know that his wing spiker held those words close and held him in a high regard.

He’d know that when Hinata watched Kageyama through the neon lights and billboard screens of Brazil and second-guessed his decisions and felt incredibly lonely, he’d remember the boy who promised him something to come home to, despite the dark mumblings that it was just a half-assed declaration of acknowledgement.

Some nights, those words were all it took for him to remember _why_ he gambled his future in Brazil.

Some rare nights, those words were all it took to keep him going.

**XI.**

A thought comes to him, abrupt.

Sunlight is perforating pass their windows, unobscured by the beige and gray curtains Hinata forced him to buy after seeing his ( _their_ ) bland, spartan apartment. It stabs holes in his eyes and disorients his vision for a short while.

Blinking to chase the iridescence behind his eyes, he pushes himself up the bed and feels the sheets pooling around his waist.

Today is the second morning after they defeated Schweiden Adlers. The young night prior is blurry in his mind, filled with flashes of blazing, vivid lights and the taste of alcohol, but Atsumu distinctly remembers taking Hinata home and celebrating intimately on their own.

Sure enough, beside him, Hinata sleeps on his stomach, the sheets barely covering anything.

From his view above, Atsumu can clearly see the taut muscles that contract ever so slightly, the light catching their shadows and trapping them as Hinata breathes. He can count the bruises, purple and yellow and blacks, some from the game, some from Atsumu’s own teeth, painting him color. Sunlight reflects off his hair, glinting yellow and piercing the dark room with its glow.

Atsumu’s breath hitches.

The sunlight seems to love Hinata the most, with the way it makes him look veritably surreal.

A thought comes to him, abrupt.

When Atsumu first fell in love, it didn’t feel like falling.

It felt like flying, soaring and bathing in the warmth of something as absurd as the sun’s embrace.

He wonders if Icarus felt like nothing was wrong with self-destructing, because he had reveled in the sun, if only for a little while.

Atsumu finds, loving Hinata is not the same.

If he is Icarus, then Hinata is the wind rushing to his face, taking him to the skies and closer to the gods. Hinata is the feelings of elation that fueled him to go higher, even while knowing the pain and doom that is sure to follow his melted wings. Hinata is the risk he takes, the disregard for his life because nothing can compare with flying and basking in that warmth.

At this very moment, Atsumu _understands_. Hinata is no sun and he is no Icarus.

Atsumu searches for Hinata’s fingers and interlaces his own with them.

Hinata’s eyes tremble and open. The fingers with his own tightens.

What is left is these feelings he now stupidly wants to flourish – the freedom he names as Hinata.

“Good morning ‘Tsumu.”

**Author's Note:**

> You want the ugly truth? This is me waxing poetic of my love for Hinata via projecting them to Atsumu. 
> 
> As you may have noticed, this took a very different direction. I was suppose to insert my headcanon that Atsumu can and will obtain Hinata's contact info and keep in touch, and change canon stuff. He's shameless like that y'know? But univ work is piling up and I was unable to focus on them until I wrote this. So uhm, anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this even though there's a distinct lack of plot and coherence.
> 
> Here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/wyxest) if you want to see some other stuff I'm working on. Stay safe everyone!
> 
> (Please leave a review if you have the time thank you!)


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